


The Long Way 'Round

by DiNovia



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-17 10:29:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13074978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiNovia/pseuds/DiNovia
Summary: For loislane89, whose prompts were "Kara quits CatCo; Cat fights to get her back" and "Jealous Cat."I sorta mashed them both together and came up with "A jealous Kara quits CatCo rather than watch Cat find happiness with another woman. Cat goes after her."The happiest of holidays to you, loislane89!  I hope you enjoy what I came up with!





	The Long Way 'Round

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LoisLane89](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoisLane89/gifts).



> Set in a nebulous spot in S1, somewhere shortly before Bizarro.

When Cat cleared her schedule on her own one evening, replacing an appearance at the Mayor’s annual fundraising dinner with an appointment simply named “Em,” Kara didn’t think too much of it, at first. It wasn’t that unusual for Cat to make changes to her own calendar – especially in light of her chronic insomnia – and a follow-up email the next morning instructed Kara to send Cat’s regrets alongside a sizeable donation to the Mayor’s philanthropic foundation. Kara knew the number of zeroes on the check would soothe any hurt feelings caused by Cat’s absence, so she sent a quick email to Cat’s personal accountant with all the pertinent information, and considered her task done.

When a second appointment named “Em” appeared on its own in Cat’s calendar a week later, Kara frowned at her monitor. It wasn’t the appointment so much as the location that had Kara’s hackles up. _Tatin_ was the newest, hottest French restaurant in town and it was booked solid for six months out. Kara knew, because she’d had to pull quite a few strings to get Cat’s mother a reservation for four at the end of October, which had been Cat’s birthday present to Katherine this year.

Kara wondered why Cat hadn’t asked for her help booking this dinner.

And why, if it was that easy for Cat to get a table herself, did she want Kara wasting half a day and a dozen favors doing it for her?  

She said as much to Alex that night, snagging yet another piece of pizza during a break in their Netflix binge-of-the-week. Her mood, like the November weather outside, was cloudy and subdued.

“Maybe it’s a private thing,” Alex said, shrugging. She took a pull on her Zombie Dust APA and watched the red spinning wheel of death loop endlessly while the next episode of _The Walking Dead_ loaded. “You know, like a date or something.”

“A _date?_ ” Kara squeaked, scandalized.

Alex, torn between rolling her eyes and smirking, somehow managed to do neither. “I know it’s hard to tell on this planet sometimes, but sexuality _is_ a spectrum. And Cat Grant has never been conventional, not by any definition.” She gave her sister a knowing sideways look. “Why? Would that make you jealous?”

“Jealous? ” Kara sat upright as if jabbed with a fork, and leaned away from Alex in disbelief. “What?  _No!_ Why would you – what gives you – don’t be ridiculous, Alex! Of course I’m not–”  

Alex smirked openly now, clearly not buying her sister’s denials. That blush alone…

Kara’s head of steam evaporated when she saw Alex’s face. She knew she’d been caught.  

“Maybe,” said Kara finally, her voice quiet. Feeling super exposed and more than a little irritated, she looked away from Alex and flopped dejectedly into the corner of the couch. “Is it that obvious?” she asked, picking at the pepperoni on her uneaten slice of pizza.

“A little,” said Alex gently, scooting closer to Kara. “You’ve never really been good at hiding your feelings.”

Kara smiled weakly. “Yeah. I know.” Her smile faded, though, just as the next episode of their show loaded. Alex grabbed the remote and paused it before it could start.

“Who  _is_ Em? Do you know?”  

Kara shook her head. “No.” She jammed half of the piece of pizza into her mouth, chewing morosely. “It could be Emma Thompson for all I know.”

“Wow,” said Alex, trying hard not to laugh. “Cat has one dinner with a mysterious person named ‘Em’ and your brain makes a beeline straight to Emma Thompson?” She took another sip of her beer. “Good to know you’re not jumping to any weird conclusions or anything.”

“Not _one_ dinner,” countered Kara, defensive. “Two! And I said ‘for all I know.’ Which means I _don’t_ know. It could be anyone–”

“Right! Anyone, Kara. And for any innocent reason. Just because I said it might be a date doesn’t mean it _is_ one, okay?” Alex laid a hand on Kara’s knee. “Look, I shouldn’t have said anything. I was just spitballing; I didn’t mean–”

“No, Alex.” Kara put a hand over Alex’s, holding it there. She sighed. “It’s okay.  I just – I need to stop this, you know? Stop feeling this way about her.” She leaned forward to put the remains of her dinner back in its grease-stained box. “It’s not like anything will ever happen.”

Alex set her beer bottle on the coffee table and leaned into Kara, giving her a side-armed hug. “Feelings aren’t easy to ignore sometimes,” she said softly. “I know; I’ve been there. Trust me.” She touched her temple to Kara’s. “Knowing that doesn’t make it suck any less, though.”

Kara didn’t answer, just nodded in agreement, and Alex saw tears begin to well in her eyes.

“Let’s watch Carol blow shit up,” she said, reaching for the remote. She jabbed the play button with a little more force than necessary and squeezed Kara’s knee in silent support.  

They didn’t talk about work or about Cat for the rest of the night.

\---

Kara breathed a sigh of relief the following Friday when no further appointments named “Em” appeared in Cat’s calendar. In fact, the only appointment Cat had added to her already-overbooked schedule that week was a visit to an art gallery downtown. Kara knew it – had visited it often enough, in fact, to know the current exhibition was a showing of Amy Sherald’s portraits. Cat was always looking for new talent to feature in _CATCO Magazine_ , so the appointment didn’t raise any red flags.

By Monday the week of Thanksgiving, Kara was relieved by the continued absence of “Em” in Cat’s calendar. It seemed the mysterious interloper and all the jealousy and longing she had stirred in Kara had passed into the ether – a brief and disturbing blip in an otherwise unremarkable month. Kara stood at attention outside Cat’s office as always, smiling and ready for a low-stress holiday week. She held Cat’s latte in one hand and clutched her tablet to her chest with the other, taking comfort in the sound of her boss’s heartbeat as Cat ascended in the private elevator.

“Ah, Keira. Good.” Cat reached for her latte, and Kara tamped down the bubbly thrill she felt when their fingers touched briefly. Cat breezed past Kara into her office, and Kara dutifully fell in behind her, squeezing through the door just before it closed. “I need you to take a look at my schedule for Friday – see if there’s anything that can’t be rescheduled.”

As eager as ever, Kara had her tablet open in a flash. “You have a conference call with the Puerto Rico office at ten, lunch with Audrey from the _Chronicle_ at one, and a meeting with the senior leadership of the art department about recruiting strategies for the new year at three-thirty.”

“Ugh. Clear it all,” said Cat, flapping her hand dismissively as she rounded her desk. She dropped her bag and her sunglasses next to her laptop and took a sip of her latte. Kara tried not to smile when she heard Cat’s tiny sigh of contentment as the scalding coffee hit her tongue. “Reschedule the conference call and the meeting with the art department to the first week of December, and give Audrey the option of rescheduling our lunch or canceling outright.” She shrugged noncommittally. “It’s my annual appeal for her to take over _The Tribune_ ; she might be relieved to escape it.”

Kara tapped the screen of her tablet and made a few notes. “Anything else, Miss Grant?” she asked.

Cat sat at her desk and flipped open her laptop. “Have Wen open the beach house for me, would you? Make sure it’s ready and stocked for the weekend, at least.” She tapped out a few words on her keyboard, adding a distracted, “Maybe longer. Oh, and since you’re clearing _my_ Friday, you might as well take the day off yourself. Spend more time with your foster mother and sister in that ghastly coastal village of yours.”

Confused, Kara frowned. “Have your plans for Thanksgiving changed, Miss Grant?” she asked. She knew Carter would already be at his father’s – she’d booked the flights herself. “Should I send your regrets–”

“I’d have to be insane to cancel on Jeri and Christophe,” Cat said, shaking her head. “I’ve been looking forward to his Salmis de Canard all year. No, a... friend is joining me at the beach house Friday evening and I want to make sure she sees it at its best.”

Kara stopped breathing. Her face flashed white-hot and her heart sank, the miniscule pause before the word _friend_ shattering her like a bullet made of kryptonite. Kara knew somehow the friend in question was “Em,” and she was grateful for whatever was in Cat’s emails that kept Cat from looking up.  She needed a minute.

It was confirmation, as far as Kara was concerned. Final and irrefutable. Alex had been right; the appointments had been dates, and now those dates had morphed into a weekend at the beach house. Painful images of Cat waking up in another woman’s arms, of Cat smiling before pressing her lips to the corner of the woman’s mouth, filled Kara’s mind and she fought to push them away.

She cleared her throat, tight with unshed tears, and asked, “Is there anything in particular you’d like–”

Now it was Cat’s turn to frown, but only slightly. “No, no – nothing special. You know my tastes.” She glanced up briefly and a faint smile touched her lips. “I trust you, Keira,” she said. If she noticed Kara’s distress, she didn’t acknowledge it.

“I’ll take care of it personally, Miss Grant,” Kara said, and she hurried out of the office.

\---

Kara was off-kilter for the rest of the day. Oh, she answered her calls and did her work with the same skill and determination as always, but she was only going through the motions. Internally, she wrestled demons she thought vanquished – or at least conveniently locked away somewhere deep and dark and out of reach.

Jealousy, rage, and despair all rose again to gnaw at Kara, and she had no defense. It had been so much easier before, when Cat’s dates had been of the one-and-done variety – a parade of nearly identical nonthreatening men she took to events and award ceremonies.

Kara’s jealousy of these men had stopped when she realized Cat never mentioned them afterward. Camera fodder, James called them. They were convenient props, used to great effect alongside Cat’s world-as-stage public persona. Even the paparazzi had stopped asking their names, and most articles – if they mentioned them at all – referred to them as “and date.” As in “Cat Grant and date, pictured here.”

Em was different. She wasn’t for the public eye. Hell, she barely had a name, and there was certainly no evidence of her in the day-to-day record of Cat Grant sightings posted to social media. Kara had checked.

That was the first red flag. Em’s absence in Cat’s public life meant Cat was protecting her for some reason. A reason Kara thought she knew too well.

The second red flag was the opening of the beach house. Cat didn’t take just anyone there. It was her sanctuary, her escape from the pressures of her world and work – far enough away to feel removed, but near enough for her to be accessible should the need arise. In all the time Kara had been at CatCo, only Carter had ever accompanied Cat there.

Kara sent an email to Wen outlining Cat’s request, and asked that the task be completed by Wednesday, before the holiday.

By the time Wednesday actually arrived, Kara was exhausted and numb. Sleep was puzzle she’d given up trying to solve, and the floor of her despair had cracked open, allowing her to sink into the bleak and unfeeling emptiness beneath it, a gray nothingness that was as cloying as it was invisible.

When the call came that the beach house was stocked and ready for its mistress’ arrival, Kara used her lunch break to fly there, inspecting the completion of the task herself… and realized almost immediately the momentousness of her mistake.

All the intimate images of Cat with this faceless woman Kara had struggled to ignore all week came flooding back, made stronger and more vivid by an unseasonably sunny November afternoon and the sound of the ocean right outside. By the time Kara realized she was crying, she knew what she had to do.

\---

The minute Alex saw Kara’s face on Thanksgiving morning, she knew.

“Shit,” she said, pulling Kara into a hug on the front porch. “Shit _fucker_. Kara, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Kara said, but the way she clutched at Alex and the wobble in her voice told another story.

“It is _not_ okay, Kara. It’s not.” Alex stroked her sister’s hair and blinked back tears of her own, wondering why the universe couldn’t give her kid sister one _fucking_ break. Hadn’t Kara suffered enough? Hadn’t the loss of her parents and planet counted for anything? Couldn’t she have just a little happiness?

Alex pulled back to look Kara in the eye. She cupped her face in her hands and shook her gently.  “Hey,” she said. “You’re gonna get through this and I’m gonna help, okay? We’ll eat ice cream by the gallon and play Adele at that ear-bleeding volume you love so much and we _will_ get through this. Together. I promise.” She took a risk and cracked a half-smile. “Besides, there’s no guarantee Cat and this Em person will work out. She’ll – I don’t know – she’ll have a Spongebob toothbrush or she’ll use the word _myriad_ in a sentence incorrectly and that’ll be the end of it. You’ll see.”

Kara shook her head. “It doesn’t matter,” she said grimly. “I’ve taken care of it.”

Cold terror washed down Alex’s spine like a melting snowball shoved down the back of her parka.

“What do you mean you’ve taken care of it?” she asked, her voice low and measured.

“I resigned,” said Kara, and Alex let go the breath she was holding. “She’ll see the letter on Monday. I left it on her desk on my way here. I didn’t want to ruin _her_ weekend, after all.” The bitterness in Kara’s voice would have been shocking to anyone else. Alex, though, had heard it all before. Sharing her teen years with a displaced and traumatized member of Kryptonian royalty had been quite the experience. Hence, her relief they were only talking resignation.

Still, Alex didn’t think it was the right move.

“Don’t rush into anything you can’t take back, Kar.” She ran her hand through her short hair and scowled. “I hate to see you lose CatCo, too. It’s been such a home for you. Helped you so much...”

“I can’t do it,” Kara said firmly, but Alex saw the anguish in her eyes. “I can’t sit outside her office and listen to her on the phone with this woman, whispering to her, smiling…” She stared into the middle-distance, haunted by images only she could see. “I can’t arrange dates for them, or help Cat buy presents for her at Christmas, or send apology roses to her when they fight. I can’t, Alex. I’m not strong enough. Please don’t make me.”

The shaky walls holding back Kara’s tears collapsed at the end of her plea, and Alex pulled Kara back into her arms, holding on tight.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Kara, It’s okay. You don’t have to. We’ll figure something out.”

“Alex?” called Eliza from the kitchen in the back of the farmhouse. “Is your sister here yet? I thought you said she’d be here by ten!”

“Don’t tell her!” begged Kara, pulling out of Alex’s arms in a sudden panic. “Alex, please don’t. Not about how I feel about Cat or what’s going on or about my resignation. Please promise me! I don’t want Eliza to worry.”

“I’ll do my best on the last two,” said Alex ruefully, “but I can’t do anything about the first one. Mom’s the one who pointed it out to me!” She ignored Kara’s look of shock and called over her shoulder. “She just got here, Mom! We’ll be in in a minute!”

“Well, don’t take too long! The green beans aren’t going to snap themselves, and I could use some help washing and peeling the potatoes!”

“You’re _so_ getting potato duty this year,” whispered Alex, watching as Kara tried to hide the evidence of her tears. “Cat being a jerk or not. There’s a twenty-pound bag of them on the floor in the corner. I think Mom forgot it’s only the three of us this year.” To her mother, Alex shouted, “We’re coming!”

“Nice to see some things never change,” said Kara sourly, but there was a ghost of a smile on her lips. She put on her best Kara Danvers face and prayed it’d pass muster with Eliza. She didn’t want to spend the whole holiday hashing and rehashing her life choices.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Eliza!” she called, and Alex smirked as they walked into the house together.

\---

Cat exited her private elevator at exactly three in the afternoon on Friday, tight-lipped and annoyed. She’d left the book she’d made for Emily in her desk drawer, necessitating a stop at CatCo before she headed to the beach house. Traffic being what it was on Black Friday, she knew she was practically doomed to be late. Regrettable.

She whirled through the nearly empty bullpen, glancing briefly at Kara’s desk. Her already dour mood easily masked the pang of disappointment she felt at not seeing Kara there, but she’d been the one to give the girl the day off. She had no one to blame but herself.

Once through her office door, Cat headed straight for her desk and yanked open the drawer where she’d tucked the damned book, for ‘safekeeping.’ She rolled her eyes and snagged the thing, then spun, intending an immediate return to her waiting town car. The envelope propped against her pen cup stopped her in her tracks.

Kara’s distinctive handwriting gave away the author and Cat’s entire countenance changed in an instant. The undercurrent of annoyance jangling her nerves melted away, replaced by a gentle flood of indulgent tenderness.

“Oh, Kara,” she whispered, thinking it was just like her assistant to leave a note of thanks at Thanksgiving, as unnecessary as it was. She opened the envelope impatiently and pulled out the single sheet of paper, but the soft smile she wore crumpled after the first few words. As she read further, Cat slowly collapsed into her chair, equal parts confused and distraught. When she finished it, she read it over again, just to make sure she was reading it correctly.

> _Dear Miss Grant,_
> 
> _Please let this letter, tendered November 24th, 2016, serve as notification of my resignation, effective immediately._
> 
> _Due to personal reasons, I am unable to continue employment with CatCo Worldwide Media._
> 
> _I have learned so much from you, Miss Grant, and I am grateful for the chance you gave me – more than you'll ever know. I hope you continue to soar, like you always have, and I wish you all the best. Truly._
> 
> _Sincerely,_
> 
> _Kara Danvers_

Stunned, Cat sat her desk with the letter trembling in her hand for three full minutes before she realized she had her phone with her. She snatched it out of her bag and dialed Kara’s number before she even knew what she was going to say. It went to voicemail. It went to voicemail three times, in fact, so Cat switched tactics.

 **Keira, call me immediately,** she texted.

When the text went unanswered, she tried again.

**Whatever’s happened, we can work it out. There’s no need for dramatics.**

She waited for the fluttering ellipsis to appear below her message, apparently in vain. Determined to open the lines of communication – by force, if necessary – Cat tried one last time, bringing out the big guns, a pair of words she _knew_ Kara could not ignore.

**Kara. Please…**

Nothing. Not even a flicker.

Cat slammed her phone onto her desk, then pushed it away from her, angrier than she thought she should be under the circumstances. She’d been telling herself for months not to let this happen, not to get too attached, not to take Kara for granted – and wasn’t this exactly why? So she wouldn’t be sitting here, at her desk, falling apart when Kara inevitably walked away?

The sight of the book she’d come back for reminded Cat of her other responsibilities, and she thought she should call Emily with some excuse for her tardiness – a family emergency or something. She failed to move, though, and instead sat staring blankly at the letter until the word _emergency_ slowly came to the forefront of her mind, giving her an idea. She retrieved her phone and scrolled through the contacts until she found one she’d added after the Leslie Willis incident: Kara’s ICE.

Cat pressed the call button.

 _“Danvers,”_ said Alex curtly when she picked up.

“If we were to talk for a moment, Agent Danvers, would Kara be able to hear us?”

The silence on the line was deafening.

 _“Since she’s curled up on my mom’s couch crying through infomercials while I’m out getting her more ice cream, I think we’re safe,”_ said Alex finally, and the acidity in her tone told Cat much.

“You think or you know?” Cat asked, pressing the point. Alex’s obvious displeasure notwithstanding, Cat didn’t want to make things worse. Being caught calling Kara’s sister to squeeze her for information had the potential to do just that.

There was another pregnant pause on the line, and Cat realized she’d given away a little more than she’d planned. Oops.

 _“I can’t guarantee anything,”_ said Alex, _“but she’s got other things on her mind at the moment. She’s in no shape for… heroics.”_

“Is she injured?” Cat hated how desperate she sounded, but her heart was in her throat now, and she couldn’t swallow it back. “Or sick? Is that why she resigned?”

Alex sighed. _“Physically, she’s fine. As for why she resigned… you’ll have to ask her.”_

“I tried that already, but she won’t answer her damn phone _or_ the texts I sent,” snapped Cat, bristling, needing the release of the anger to hide her relief that Kara wasn’t hurt. Then, thinking irritation might not be the best tactic for securing the agent’s cooperation, she added, softly, “I would be appreciative of any insights you may have. I’m… I’m at a loss, and that’s not a comfortable place for me. I want to help if I can.”

 _“You’ve done enough. Can’t you just_ –”

“Then it was me?” Cat’s face fell. Until this moment, she hadn’t a clue. “I know this will sound terrible, but I have no idea–” Cat bit back the rest of her denial. She was right. It sounded worse than terrible; it sounded like an excuse. “Please tell me what I did. Give me the opportunity to make it right.”

 _“Be… be careful what you offer, Miss Grant. Maybe it’s not something you can fix. Or maybe you won’t want to, once you find out_ – _”_

“Enough,” said Cat, eyes flashing. “Do not presume to think for me, Agent. If you know the specifics and are willing to share them, do so now. Otherwise, ask Kara to call me at her earliest convenience, and I’ll end this conversation.” When she didn’t get an immediate response, she barked, “Well?”

 _“Kara will kill me,”_ Alex said under her breath, and both women knew it wasn’t hyperbole. _“Look, just… for whatever it’s worth, Kara knows you weren’t intentionally trying to hurt her. She knows she should be able to handle it, but she just can’t, okay? She can’t watch you with her and pretend.”_

“Watch me with whom?” asked Cat, even more at a loss than when she’d started. “Pretend what?”

 _“With Em,”_ said Alex quietly. _“Whoever that is.”_

“Emily?” asked Cat, incredulous. “What does my interior designer have to do with this?”

 _“Your who now?”_ asked Alex, and Cat had to keep herself from sniggering at how high the agent’s voice had become.

“Emily Charlton.” said Cat evenly. “She left _Runway_ last year to open her own interior design studio, and I’ve hired her to renovate my beach house.” After a quick replay of her and Alex’s conversation, Cat began to see the shape of the problem. “Are you saying…?” She didn’t finish the question just in case she was reading things very wrong, indeed. Plausible deniability was a habit she’d perfected back in her _Daily Planet_ days.

 _“I only managed to get Kara to turn off Adele’s saddest album by promising her three gallons of Tillamook Mudslide ice cream and two bags of every Lay’s potato chip available,”_ Alex said. _“I look like a maniac in this Raley’s right now.”_

Cat closed her eyes and smiled. Relief and something else – something not unlike giddiness – rolled over her in a wave. “That beautiful idiot,” she muttered to herself.

 _“What was that?”_ asked Alex, the edge back in her tone.

Cat ignored her. “Listen to me, Agent Danvers: I think I can fix this, and I want to – believe me – but I need two things from you.”

_“Name them.”_

“Your mother’s address, and a promise you won’t tell Kara about our conversation. When I call her later, encourage her to pick up, but tell her nothing else.”

_“Understand this: if you hurt her, they won’t find a single strand of your DNA, let alone anything else that might identify you. Are we clear?”_

Cat had never felt so warmed by a threat before in her life. “We’re clear,” she said sincerely.

_“I’ll do what I can, but I can’t promise she’ll pick up.”_

“If she doesn’t, she doesn’t. It won’t change anything; I promise.”

 _“I’ll text you the address. I have to warn you, Miss Grant, it’s a little off the beaten path_.”

“A few bumps aren’t enough to stop me,” Cat replied. “Oh, and Alex? Call me Cat.”

 _“That’ll take some getting used to,”_ said Alex hesitantly.

“Really?” asked Cat innocently. “And you seem like such an adaptable sort.” She disconnected the call, collected her things, and headed for her elevator.

She was on a mission, after all.

\---

Eliza, carrying three mugs of steaming hot chocolate, stopped first in the den, surprised to find Kara had abandoned her nest of blankets. That horrific infomercial for something called _Dump Cakes_ was on again and Eliza shook her head at the plump redhead hawking them, wondering how anyone could find the word _dump_ remotely appetizing. Alex dozed, curled up at the other end of the couch, two bowls and an empty carton of ice cream on the coffee table in front of her.

Eliza smirked and deposited one of the mugs on a stack of magazines, using her free hand to drape one of the blankets across Alex’s legs. “Kara?” she whispered, heading toward the home office, thinking Kara might be using the laptop there.

“Out here, Eliza,” said Kara, and Eliza changed course, opening the screen door to the back porch with a bump of her hip. The only light came from the TV inside and Eliza could just make out the curve of Kara’s face as she looked out at the ocean.

“I thought you might like some cocoa to wash down the Mudslide sundaes,” she said, offering a mug to Kara. “I put in extra marshmallows, just like you like it.”

“Thanks.” Kara glanced at the mug before taking it from Eliza, but didn’t take a sip. Instead, she went back to staring out at the sea, eyes blank.

Eliza put her own mug on the table by the door and knelt next to Kara.

“Honey, what’s wrong? Has something happened?” She put one hand on Kara’s arm and squeezed. “You seem so sad, and don’t think I haven’t noticed the looks going back and forth between you girls.”

“I quit my job,” said Kara softly, not seeing the point in keeping the news from Eliza any longer. A knot of tears burned in her throat. She wondered how four tiny words could hurt so much.

“Oh, sweetie, why?” Eliza rose up and put her arms around Kara, then let her go when the younger woman didn’t yield to the embrace. Hugging a recalcitrant Kryptonian felt like hugging a boulder. “Did you and Cat have a disagreement?”

When Kara shook her head, Eliza’s heart sank.

“She’s seeing someone, then, isn’t she?” she asked, and her face fell as Kara’s crumpled. Unable to speak, Kara simply nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Oh, Kara,” breathed Eliza, and this time Kara fell into her arms when she opened them. She pressed her wet face into Eliza’s sweater and gulped back her sobs. “I’m so sorry,” cooed Eliza, threading her fingers through Kara’s long curls. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“I kept telling myself not to, you know?” Kara’s voice, muffled by the cashmere, sounded far away. “But she’s just so – _so_ – and even though I knew nothing could ever happen, I couldn’t stop myself. I fell _so hard_ , Eliza, and now everything’s ruined…”

Eliza rocked Kara back and forth in her arms. She stopped herself from shushing her with whispered platitudes, knowing it wasn’t okay, that it wouldn’t be for a while, and that even if Kara was strong enough to find her way to the other side of her devastation once again, right now, she was in agony.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” was the only thing Eliza could think of to say, so she said it over and over.  At least it was true. She’d thought this might happen someday. She’d hoped it wouldn’t, of course – that somehow the two of them would find their way to one another – but hearts and lives were tricky things, and Eliza had learned a long time ago not to depend on the happily ever after.

Kara clutched at her foster mother and gave into her sadness as much as she dared. She couldn’t let Alex see this part of her, not since Jeremiah anyway, and those few times she had, back during her first days on Earth, she’d seen fear in Alex’s eyes. A Kryptonian’s grief could shake mountains on this planet, after all, and only Eliza had ever seemed strong enough to weather it.

When Kara finally felt like she could breathe again, she pulled away, scrubbing at her eyes, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” she stuttered, not able to look Eliza in the eyes just yet, and Eliza reached out to reassure her when the cell phone in Kara’s lap rang. Neither of them needed to see the name to know who it was; Cat’s ringtone on Kara’s phone had been Beyoncé’s _Run the World (Girls)_ since the CEO had first branded Supergirl.

Kara fought back fresh tears and looked at Eliza helplessly. “I can’t talk to her,” she said, and Eliza squeezed her arm in support when Alex banged through the porch door, startling both of them.

“Is that Cat?” asked Alex, looking a little wild and groggy, still holding the blanket from the couch. When she recognized the ringtone, she rolled her eyes. “Nevermind; I hear it now. You’re gonna want to answer that.”

Kara shook her head. “No, Alex! Look at me! I can’t talk to her like this!”

The phone stopped ringing when it went to voicemail and Alex frowned.

“If she calls back, pick it up,” she ordered.

Beyoncé started singing again almost immediately, and Kara looked up at Alex, torn.

Alex leveled serious hazel eyes at her. “Trust me,” she said.

Kara snatched it up and answered it before it could go to voicemail again.

“Miss Grant?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound as distraught as she felt.

 _“Kara, thank–”_ Cat stopped abruptly and corrected course, not wanting to give away too much too soon. _"Thank you for answering.”_

“Alex said I should,” replied Kara. “I wasn’t going to.”

 _“Tell your sister I appreciate the vote of confidence.”_ Cat paused, and Kara had the fleeting thought that maybe she wasn’t the only one who was upset. _“Can we talk?”_

Kara glanced at her foster mother and sister, searching for assurance. “About my letter?” she asked, and Alex leaned against the door frame, giving Kara a soft smile of encouragement.

 _“Among other things,”_ said Cat. _"May I ask why you resigned?”_

Kara flinched and shook her head. “No. It’s personal.”

 _“Fair enough,”_ said Cat, and she tried to hide her frustration. _“If you won’t allow me the opportunity to smooth things over, may I at least attempt to change your mind?”_

“Why?” asked Kara, although the question she really wanted to ask was “How?”

 _“Why?”_ echoed Cat, sounding exasperated. _“Because you’re the best assistant I’ve ever had? Because whatever has happened can’t be as bad as you think it is? Because you were wrong that morning at your interview?”_

Kara narrowed her eyes, not sure she was following. “Wrong about what?” she asked.

_“About yourself, Kara. You’re not average at all. You never have been. You’re smart and talented and astonishing and CatCo needs–”_

Cat pursed her lips and exhaled sharply, irritated with herself for not saying what she wanted to say, for not telling Kara the truth. Without irrefutable confirmation from Kara about why she’d resigned, a small but insistent part of Cat worried she was still reading this all wrong, and she didn’t want to make a fool of herself. Not with Kara.

 _“I need you,”_ she said hoarsely, taking a risk and revealing the tiniest sliver of that need.

“As your assistant,” prompted Kara, still not following. The maelstrom of her own emotions was either interfering with her ability to read Cat’s, or was painting Cat’s words with wildly inappropriate hope. Kara couldn’t tell and she damn sure couldn’t ask.

_“Yes! No! Goddammit!”_

Wide-eyed, Kara pulled the phone away from her ear and stared down at it. Eliza snickered once, then cast a pointed look at Alex. They excused themselves unnoticed.

 _“Do you want to know the exact moment I knew I was screwed, Kara? Is that it?”_ asked Cat harshly. _“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but there isn’t just one. There are too many to count and we don’t have time for the complete litany_ – _"_

Kara tried to take control of the situation at hand, thinking maybe her boss was a little drunk, that she couldn’t possibly mean what she was implying. “Miss Grant, are you–?”

Cat ignored the interruption. _“Fine. I suppose I can share a few examples. I knew I was screwed the first time my fingers brushed yours when you handed me my latte and it felt like liquid fire. I... I knew,"_ she continued, her voice softening, _"when you_ _admitted you’d been raised by a foster family after the death of your parents, the thinnest of veneers between you and the pain of your memories. I knew the minute I threw myself between you and Leslie to save you, and I knew when you peeled the top off my elevator car to save me.”_

Kara gasped, clutching her phone with both hands, but Cat didn’t let her speak.

 _“I knew when you and James and Winn risked everything to undermine the Board’s takeover attempt, and I damned sure knew when my son_ – _my sweet, shy Carter_ – _ran into your arms the morning after you’d chosen his train over the airport.”_

“Miss Grant…” Kara tried again to stop Cat, her voice wavering.

_“I know who you are, Kara, and the sky hasn’t fallen. I know what I want, and I’m not going to let some ridiculous misunderstanding come between us."_

“Miss Grant?” It was just a whisper this time, underpinned by all of Kara’s confusion, but the brokenness of her voice tempered Cat’s conviction, making it strong, like steel.

 _“I’m not letting you walk away, Kara. Not like this. I’m going to fight for you because you’re worth fighting for, and because I’ve been a coward for too long.”_ Cat took a deep breath. _“You don’t know what to believe right now, and that’s okay_ – _you’re not listening to me, not really_ – _”_

Kara shook her head violently, only managing to say one strangled word. “No–”

 _“I’m not blaming you, Kara. I’ve given you no reason to believe me, nothing to hold onto. And to find out you thought_ – _"_

“Thought what?” whispered Kara desperately, silver tears welling in her eyes.

_“Emily is the interior designer I hired to renovate my beach house. She’s a friend, nothing more.”_

“Cat…” The name broke from Kara on a stifled sob and she clapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself saying any more.

 _“Don’t just listen to me, Kara. Hear me,”_ said Cat softly. Then she disconnected the call.

“What?” Kara looked down at her phone, heart pounding, wondering if she’d said something or had done something to cause Cat to end the call so abruptly. Eventually, Cat’s last words filtered through the haze of her panic and she looked up, wiping the tears from her cheeks. After quieting herself, she finally heard it – Cat’s heartbeat – approaching from the northwest, no longer echoing through the phone, coming steadily closer.

Without a word, Kara bolted out of her chair, barreling through the backdoor and the house in a flash. Alex and Eliza, having cocoa in the kitchen, put down their mugs and followed in Kara’s wake, arriving on the front porch just in time to see a black town car pull up.

\---

Cat looked out the window at Kara, standing windswept and unadorned on her foster mother’s front steps. She looked shell-shocked and uncertain, hugging herself, hands fisted in the sleeves of an over-sized navy blue sweatshirt she wore over a pair of shapeless gray sweatpants. The ocean breeze ruffled her unruly curls, and Cat could see the remnants of tears on her cheeks, unhidden by the useless glasses. Kara had never looked more beautiful...

After gazing for too long a moment, Cat also saw the pair of women standing behind Kara on the porch, sporting matching knowing smirks. Cat opened her door and exited the car, glancing at Kara before turning to the woman she hadn’t yet met.

“Forgive me for barging in on your Thanksgiving celebration unannounced, Mrs. Danvers,” she said, standing stiffly in the open doorway.  “It’s not something I’m in the habit of doing, I assure you.”

Eliza also glanced at Kara, smiling indulgently at the back of her youngest daughter’s head before answering, her voice filled with warmth and kindness.

“No harm done, Cat,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “In fact, I think you might have given us all a little something more to be thankful for this year.” She winked and Cat chuckled, thinking she liked Eliza Danvers very much. “Now, if you’ll excuse Alex and I, we have some dishes to clean up. Don’t you two stay out here too long. And send your driver in for coffee and pie; we have plenty of both.”

Eliza tugged on Alex’s sleeve and the DEO agent balked. _“Mom,”_ she whined, but Eliza wasn’t having it.

“Inside, if you please, Alexandra,” she said shortly, and she all but dragged Alex off the porch.

Cat waited until the screen door snapped shut before looking at Kara.

“Clearly, I have no right to complain about anyone’s penchant for dramatics,” she said, rolling her eyes at herself. “Not after this.”

“You’re here,” said Kara flatly, and her eyes were unreadable in the distance between them, washed out by the light from a yellow bulb nestled somewhere in the eaves of the house.

Cat squared her shoulders. “I came to get you back. I had to try, at least.”

“Emily’s your interior designer.” A slight crack in Kara’s voice gave lie to her stoic appearance, and Cat wondered if she was trembling. The thought made her ache.

“And a friend. We’ve known each other for years.” There’d be time later to explain it, in all its complicated glory, but right now, Cat wanted to reassure Kara. That alone.

Kara’s eyes flickered away from Cat’s for a second, before she found the strength to look at her again.

“I’m afraid,” she said, and Cat wanted to laugh, as inappropriate as that would be.

“Are you?” she asked, and she sounded a little unhinged. “Because I’m _terrified_.”

Emotion, bright and fleeting, crossed Kara’s face, as if she couldn’t believe the Queen of All Media could be afraid of anything, let alone her, standing barefoot and bedraggled on her foster mother’s porch.

“You left me, Kara, and look at where I am!” said Cat, taking a step toward Kara. “I paid my driver exorbitant overtime fees and hazard pay to drag me halfway up the coast of California in the dark, over all these twisty little country lanes you people seem to be so fond of!”

She took another step. “I’m standing in the driveway of your foster mother’s home…”

And another. “...shaking in my Prada snakeskin peekaboo pumps…”

And yet another, her voice growing quieter and more plaintive with every step, hazel eyes pleading. “...wondering if you’re ever going to let me kiss you the way you deserve to be kissed…”

After one stunned heartbeat, Kara ran down the steps and into Cat’s arms, staring down at her, doe-eyed and disbelieving. She reached out to stroke Cat’s cheek, hesitantly, as if she were afraid she was imagining her here, saying words that couldn’t possibly be true.

“And if I do? Let you kiss me, I mean?” she asked, her voice a breath, barely audible.

“I promise you I’ll never let you go again,” Cat whispered, eyes hooded and voice whisky-dark. Then she slid her hand around to the back of Kara’s neck, tipped herself up onto her tiptoes, and pulled Kara down into a searingly sweet kiss, one that left both of them breathless.

When they parted, Kara pressed her forehead to Cat’s and blushed. “If nothing else, we’ve made Alex’s night,” she said sheepishly, acknowledging the whoop of delight echoing from one of the second-story windows.

Cat snickered. “Is that what that was? It sounded more like an injured pelican to me.” Her smile faded slightly as she looked up into Kara’s earnest sea blue eyes. “I’m sorry I hurt you, darling,” she said, brushing a lock of Kara’s hair behind her ear. “If I had known…”

“You mean I wasn’t completely obvious?” asked Kara, incredulous. “Good to know.”

“It’s entirely possible I was too invested in hiding my own feelings to notice you were doing the same,” admitted Cat. “The dance of interest, of flirtation and pursuit, is often muted between women. We’re not taught to go after what… or who… we want.”

Kara smiled shyly. “And you want me?” she asked. “Really?”

“More than I can say.” Cat captured Kara’s chin in her fingertips and tilted her head so their eyes met. “Come back with me tonight, darling,” she said. “Let me show you how much.”

“I’ll go anywhere with you, Cat,” Kara murmured, leaning in to kiss Cat once again. When she pulled back, though, she added, “But Eliza’s right. Come in for dinner at least. I know you won’t have eaten yet – you’re way too driven–”

Cat ignored the pun.

“ – and Raj – I know it’s Raj; I can hear him laughing – he should eat, too, before we make him take us all the way back. We have plenty of leftovers.”

“And if I say yes?” asked Cat, making a show of considering the possibility.

Kara raised both eyebrows haughtily. “Name your price,” she said.

“I want to see the sun rise in your eyes,” breathed Cat. Kara, caught entirely off guard, gasped. “If that’s not too much trouble,” Cat added, eyes twinkling.

Pleased and embarrassed and eager all at once, Kara bit her lip.

“That can _definitely_ be arranged,” she said, and she leaned in to nuzzle Cat’s neck where the faintest trace of Cat’s signature scent still lingered.

\---

Three hours later, Eliza pushed a Thermos and a paper bag at Raj with a shake of her head.

“I’m not taking no for an answer, young man,” she admonished him. “You’ve had a long day and you need to keep your strength up.”

“Your coffee could wake the dead, so there’s no way I’d say no to _it_ , Mrs. Danvers,” Raj said, laughing, “but I don’t think I need six more sandwiches–”

“Hey, genius,” interjected Alex, giving the driver a pointed look. “She wants everyone to get home safely. For some reason, she thinks feeding you will help. Smile and nod and _walk_ _away_. Anything else is a losing battle.”

Raj saluted, knowing better than to argue with the brunette. He had a feeling she could knock him on his ass. One-handed. “Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” he said, then he tipped his hat to Eliza. “Thank you, Mrs. Danvers. They won’t go to waste.”

Alex smirked and headed to the back of the car with a Thermos of her own. “This one’s for you, Cat,” she said, winking. “All I had was Macallan 18, but I think it’ll do the trick.”

Cat took the container, both eyebrows high on her forehead. “You’re proving to be practically indispensable, Alexandra,” she said drolly. “Color me impressed.”

Alex watched Raj intercept Kara and as the two of them argued about who was going to put Kara’s overnight bag in the trunk, Alex leaned in to say something to Cat sotto voce, using the distraction to keep Kara from hearing her.

“I’ve been trained to withstand several hundred torture techniques so there’s, like, _zero_ chance I’ll ever admit to saying this, but…” She grinned. “You’re good for her. Can’t think of anyone better, as a matter of fact. So don’t screw this up.”

“You mean worse than I already have?” asked Cat sarcastically. Then she turned serious. “You have my word, Alex. And if I do, I want you to be the one to claim the pound of flesh I’ll owe. At my age, I take second chances very seriously.”

“Yeah, well, Kara will give you a third chance and a fourth and so on until you choke on them, and she’ll never bat an eye. With me, you’ll only get one – this one – so make it count.”

Cat wondered how she could be so charmed by such a clearly deadly woman. “Understood,” she said. In the next moment, Kara bounded around to the door and Cat’s entire demeanor changed. “Ready, darling?” she asked, reaching out for Kara’s hand. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the car’s interior.

Kara took Cat’s hand and let herself be pulled into the back of the town car, sliding in past Alex, who chuckled and moved out of the way.

“ _So_ ready,” she said, and all her sadness, all her fear and jealousy and longing, was just… gone. She was Kara again – Sunny Kara Danvers, with her ponytail and her dorky glasses and her beaming smiles – and all was right with the world.

“Aaand that’s my cue to barf,” said Alex, rolling her eyes. “Text me or something when you get to National City. So Mom doesn’t worry.”

Eliza appeared behind Alex and popped her oldest daughter on the shoulder, outraged. “I’m not the one who almost gave herself an ulcer this year, Alex. Leave them alone.” To the couple inside the car, she said, “Have a safe trip. And come home soon.” She caught Cat’s eye. “You and Carter are always welcome.”

Cat flashed her a watery smile, a little overcome. “Thank you, Eliza.”

Kara lurched forward suddenly and waved a tad too enthusiastically. “Bye, Alex! Bye, Eliza! Love you!” Then she reached across Cat and pulled the door closed with a bang.

Cat chuckled. “In a hurry, darling?” she asked. “Had enough of bucolic coastal towns, have we?”

Kara signaled for Raj to take off and after they were moving, she sank back into the plush leather seat, pulling Cat with her, hands gentle but curious, caressing Cat’s arms and face, nipping at her bottom lip with teasing bites, which she soothed with kisses too sweet to have much depth.

“In a hurry to be alone with you, finally,” Kara whispered, and Cat groaned, realizing too late how dangerous a three-hour drive with an earnest and deeply lovely Kara Danvers in her arms might be.

Unable to think of a convincing reason why they should stop, Cat allowed herself to indulge in what Kara was offering so readily – just for a moment. When she slid her hand under Kara’s top, though, and felt the silken skin covering Kara’s impossibly muscular midriff, Cat knew she had to pull back before they went too far.

“Kara… wait,” she said, shivering as Kara kissed her neck. When Kara looked up at her, eyes burning and face flushed with desire, Cat stroked her cheek softly. “I don’t want to just fall into bed with you,” she whispered. Seeing Kara’s eyes darken with embarrassment, Cat hurried to explain. “I want more than an awkward fumble in the backseat, Kara. I know we’ve waited too long already, but I’d rather wait a little longer – and do it right – than have our first time be something hurried and uncomfortable.”

Kara, stiff and frowning, seemed to be about to offer a counter argument before she deflated a little, nodding. “You’re right, Cat. I want that, too.” She looked down. “I’m sorry.”

Cat brought Kara’s eyes back up to meet her own. “Don’t be. Believe me, darling, my body wants nothing more than to follow wherever you’ll lead her.” She leaned in to kiss Kara on the cheek. “It’s my heart that’s being stubborn.”

“Your heart?” Kara asked quietly.

Cat nodded. “My heart,” she said. “You don’t honestly think I’d do all this – back roads and embarrassing public confessions and dinner in your foster mother’s dining room, served on her good china – for someone who meant nothing to me.”

“You wouldn’t,” Kara agreed, a small, determined frown settling between her eyes.

Cat smiled. “Just like I wouldn’t risk doing anything that might unleash your sister’s wrath upon me. A tumble with you in the backseat on the way home from Thanksgiving leftovers meets that criteria, I think.”

Kara started to nod, then stopped abruptly. “Wait – did Alex give you a shovel talk?” she asked, sounding positively scandalized.

“Officially, she’s given me two,” said Cat, bemused. Seeing that Kara was anything but, she tried to take the sting out of the revelation by stating the obvious. “She loves you, darling. Shovel talks issued by a loving sister are infinitely preferable to the alternative, believe me.”

“The alternative being...?” asked Kara, confused.

“Indifference,” said Cat, her eyes shuttering. “Dismissal.” She sat away from Kara, but Kara, well acquainted with Cat’s insecurities, wouldn’t let her go.

“No one would dare dismiss you,” she said, letting a little Supergirl steel bleed into her tone. “Not in my presence.”

Cat smiled, both at the sincerity and the platitude. “Contrary to popular belief, chivalry appears to be alive and well.” She pressed a kiss to the corner of Kara’s mouth. “Thank you, my darling.”

The small gesture of affection re-ignited all of Kara’s desire like flipping on a switch, and she blinked at Cat.

“So... just exactly what can we do in the backseat of your town car?” she asked urgently. “You know, since sex is apparently off the table.”

Cat let her fingertips drift over Kara’s thigh in contemplative patterns. “Oh, I think we can find a few alternatives, don’t you?” She looked up at Kara with eyes that burned. “Maybe if we put our heads together?”

Kara grinned. “Of course,” she said, leaning forward to capture Cat’s lips with her own, teasing them open with a tentative swipe of her tongue. When Cat let her deepen the kiss, opening to Kara with a groan, Kara thought her heart would burst on the spot.

\---

Wrapped up together in a blanket, reclining on the double-chaise positioned to face easterly on the roof-terrace of the beach house, Kara held Cat in her arms and stared out at a spot on the horizon beginning to lighten with the coming dawn.

“I would have survived it; I know that,” she said, watching the sky turn a soft, milky meringue where before it had been cold and wine-dark. “But standing here on Wednesday, thinking I’d lost you to someone else – to another woman – I felt like I would never feel the sun the right way again. That there would only be shadow, no light.”

Cat threaded her fingers through Kara’s long hair, gazing into the pensive, murky blue of her eyes as they waited for the sunrise together. “I’m sorry, Kara,” she whispered, feeling responsible and guilty for bringing sadness into Kara’s life yet again.

“Don’t be,” said Kara, smiling down at Cat, glancing at her for half a second before training her sight back onto the horizon. “I’m not.” A bubble of light blazing like the golden yolk of an egg broke over the mountains and into the sky just then, reflected brilliantly in Kara’s eyes, filling them with love and devotion, enough to take Cat’s breath away. She’d never seen anything so utterly and piercingly beautiful as Kara’s eyes in that moment and she reached up, cupping Kara’s cheek in her palm.

“Thank you for letting me win you back,” she said, voice roughened by emotion.

“Shows what you know,” Kara snorted, rolling her eyes. Then, when she saw Cat’s confusion, she explained, blushing sweetly. “You can’t win back what you never lost, Cat.”


End file.
